


Under The Same Sky

by sumiya



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumiya/pseuds/sumiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life-changing decisions are hard to make. Sometimes, it’s even harder to face their consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Same Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Spring PoT Exchange ](http://p-o-t-exchange.livejournal.com/)at lj, run by [arysthaeniru](http://archiveofourown.org/users/arysthaeniru/pseuds/arysthaeniru). Beta-ed by amazing [lahdolphin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lahdolphin/pseuds/lahdolphin).

AKB48 sounded loud and clear in the courts and Niou frowned as he stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of his serve to pick up his phone.The ball he was about to serve with fell limply and, after couple of innocent bounces, it rolled to the side of the court. Every single ringtone was assigned to a specific contact in his phonebook with some random unsuspected changes his sister did when he wasn’t looking. He smirked at Sanada’s livid face and that vein in his forehead that looked that was about to explode before he scrolled down to check the new email.

 

「Agreement accepted. I would like to meet you as soon as possible.」  
14:02

 

 

Oh.

“Niou! Stop slacking off!”

Niou chuckled to himself before dodging the ball aimed his phone. And one to his head. Apparently Yagyuu and Sanada had the same brand of stick stuck up in their asses. Thankfully for him, Yagyuu’s was thinner. Yet, since Yagyuu had finally realized he needed to pick a university, get even higher grades and use his family connections to assure he gets into Todai, he became a pain in the ass and less fun to be around. Tennis practice became time-I-could-spend-studying-things-I-knew-already for Yagyuu, so for Niou to mess with that earned him glares from his usually fun-to-play-with tennis partner. Niou thought entrance exams were ages away.

Sanada was always this prissy, though. He was even worse with the vice captain mode kicked in.

“Breaking the phone rule is twenty laps around the courts! Tarundoru!” Niou wanted to point out that technically the fault was ten laps but he thought that voicing it a loud would get him another twenty at least. He just typed a quick reply to the email and mock saluted both Sanada and Yagyuu before starting to run.

Niou turned to the bench where Yukimura would be sitting while supervising practice. Only one week before he returned from his tennis training camp in America. Niou’s grin became wider.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

Having to bear with people freaking out over entering university was one of the most frustrating things ever. Yukimura thought they could chose tennis since they were his team and therefore highly ranked nationally and they were already better than those useless wimps that played in the Rakuten Open. They all could play tennis for a living and contribute to the world’s order and sports history. It just made sense.

“Seiichi, please stop. It’s gross,” Renji’s eyebrow twitched and Yukimura popped his now chewed pencil out of his mouth. “I could name at least fifty different kinds of bacteria that you have in your mouth now.”

“Please don’t,” Yukimura hurried to say, waving his hand before he had to endure said list on top of being locked in the library working a completely useless science project. Thank heavens, Sanada seemed to agree to that. Renji always had a habit of sharing random knowledge but when he wanted to study and use it as an opportunity to do so, it could take hours.

They fell into silence again as they continued working or, in Yukimura’s case, pretending he was. The large windows in the library were distracting. The weather was so nice outside, no wind, just a slight breeze. Perfect for difficult volleys.

“Seiichi, I understand your lack of interest in science, but you do have to pass this subject in order to graduate and as far as I recall, your parents were quite specific about finishing high school before you continue your career in tennis.” Renji’s voice was near a hiss now, and Yukimura realized he had been tapping on the table’s leg long enough to piss Sanada off too. “No pro-tennis if you’re still stuck in high school. In the hypothetical case you failed this course, the chances of your manager finding another talent in the upcoming year is 78%. Do you think Echizen is trying to attract the press attention lately? Ah, no? It might be only my imagination then.”

Yukimura shot daggers at him, since kicking him under the table was out of the question with how they were being glared at by the ancient librarian already. When Yukimura’s most charming smile didn’t soften her frown, he sighed.

“There’s nothing I can’t surpass him in and I will be signing a contract before he does. I can’t stay in enclosed spaces for long, you know that. So I’ll go and get some fresh air. You two keep work on it and I’ll make it pretty, okay? ” Yukimura said, finally giving up on working and standing up. They didn’t reply and he knew it was because that’s how things worked.

They all loved tennis but their focus had drifted away as time passed by. Sanada was inheriting his family dojo after school because of his grandfather's death last year, and Renji wanted to be a writer and become the new and improved Haruki Murakami. They didn’t scold him because of his mindset in tennis. They knew he had the skills and the greatness to become a pro, but they would still act like they were mad at him until the end of the day, and Yukimura would treat them to a nice place where they would eat to their heart’s content. Yukimura would even joke about feeding Sanada to make him blush and Yanagi would chuckle quietly, and by the end of the day, everything would be back to normal.

Walking through the hallways, Yukimura decided he didn’t want to be lectured or smile his way out of trouble for skipping so he headed for the roof.

America and Japan’s sky were the same at high heights.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

The breeze felt good against Niou’s face and had that pleasant smell of cut grass. The roof of the janitor’s storage closet kept the sun out of his eyes as laid down on the concrete. His headphones blared some indie-rock he found a few weeks ago and he had a whole box of pocky that he stole from Marui. He couldn’t complain.

The perfect lazy morning came to a halt when Yukimura jumped on him with a mischievous smile on his face and plucked his headphones off.

“You’re skipping,” Yukimura said smugly as if he wasn’t doing the same thing.

Niou had worked fast on his science project. They shared the same Science teacher and the due date was pretty near. Niou had finished his project a couple of nights ago, during an insomnia episode and it was sitting on his bedroom desk already. Sanada and Yanagi were probably working their asses off on it while Yukimura pranced around the school avoiding where the teachers usually looked for him; the tennis courts. Niou could only guess how Yukimura managed to get away with doing that to two of the three demons. Niou was hardly the one to talk, though. Heck, even he would probably do the project for Yukimura with the right amount of bribery.

He shrugged nonchalantly at Yukimura’s not-really-threatening accusatory glare. Apparently, that made him win whatever battle of wills was there because Yukimura sat next to him. Yukimura even put the headphones that he had taken from him on. “Niou, you’re going to end up deaf!” He nearly screamed before snatching the iPod from Niou’s pocket and turning the volume down. Niou didn’t think he was being truly scowled for it, though. “Mmm, it’s good. I think I like it.”

Niou was sure Yukimura was lying for the sake of some company. And maybe some free food since he was sucking on a pocky stick already. He took one earbud from Yukimura and confiscated the player from the other’s hands; he skipped through a couple of songs until he found the right one and turned the volume high again. Yukimura didn’t complain (loudly) about it.

“The smell of ‘cut grass’ is actually the scent from the plants being stressed because they’re being mutilated,” Yukimura said to none one in particular after taking a deep breath. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

The cherry flavor of the stick in Niou’s mouth was overly sweet and the concrete was hard against his back. Niou turned to look at Yukimura’s peaceful face, eyes closed and head banging along the rhythm of the music.

The sky was clear and too blue on top of them.

And Niou thought life was kind of okay like this.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

“Is Blue here going to drink it with you?” The cashier voice sounded rough and inquisitive as he checked the fake ID Niou showed to buy the alcohol for Renji’s birthday party. Yukimura could not believe he had been dragged into this somehow.

“What if he does?” Niou snapped back, not intimidated at all. He even grabbed two box of cigarettes and put them on top of the bottles and snacks on the counter.

“He’s probably jailbait, punk.”

“Maybe I’m into that.” Niou sounded way too amused by this and the cashier’s heavy stare fell onto Yukimura, checking him out. Shit. They were going to end up on jail, weren’t they? They would give Sanada a heart attack but hopefully he would bail them with his family connections in the police, right? No, with his sense of justice and rightness, he probably would leave them there to learn their lesson. He would kiss Wimbledon goodbye _before_ he even become pro. Great.

“It’s your ass on the line, not mine.” The cashier shrugged and packed it up as he took the money Niou put on the counter. Niou shoved the bags into his backpack and signaled Yukimura to leave the store first and the blue haired boy couldn’t be happier to comply. They walked a couple of blocks in silence.

“When you volunteered to help me do the shopping, I thought I was going to be the one dragging you around the mall,” Yukimura said, chuckling as he opened a bag of chips. Niou didn’t really volunteer but more like he had been the last one to bail on Yukimura because he had been so entertained with his phone in the first place.

“Boring.”

“You all lack celebratory spirit.” Yukimura offered some chips at Niou, who took a couple. “Anyway, how did you pay for all that? I thought we were going to buy some beers or something, but I’m sure you brought more alcohol than the one we need to pass out drunk.” And not cheap kind either.

“I’ve been doing some deals,” Niou said with a smirk of his own. Yukimura stopped and turned to look at him.

“Are you selling drugs?”

“Want some?”

“Oh my god, Niou!”

Niou started laughing at what must had been Yukimura’s half terrified, half livid expression. Niou raised his hands in surrender. If someone thought Sanada’s backhand was painful, they’ve never had one from Yukimura.

“Just messing with you. I am making deals and some jobs from time to time, but nothing illegal.” Niou chuckled at Yukimura’s incredulity. “I’m being honest, promise.”

“For fuck’s sake Niou! You’re an ass.” Yukimura ran a hand through his hair before punching the other on the arm.

“Thank you for the trust, buchou.” Niou even had the nerve to sound offended! Yukimura resisted the urge of punching him again.

“You just convinced a guy to sell you alcohol with a fake ID and with a minor with you. Don’t be a smartass.”

“I love you too. Also, admit it. You’re not sorry for it. You want to see our Strategist completely wasted.”

Yukimura’s smile showed how much he wanted that (and how much he wanted to record it, for posterity’s sake). They both smirked at each other in complicity. Yukimura hated that he couldn’t stay mad at Niou for very long and he hated how much Niou took advantage of it. That bastard.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

「Masaharu, I’m still trying to negotiate your request. 」  
13:05

「It’s not negotiable」  
13:05

「You do realize who you are asking this to, don’t you?」  
13:06

「You know what you’ll miss if you don’t agree」  
13:08

「Cocky, aren’t you?」  
13:10

「Know my worth」  
13:10

「I’ll get back to you.」  
13:20

 

Niou shoved his phone on his jacket’s pocket before smacking Akaya on the head, hard. “That kid’s knees are bent too low and his grip on the racket’s too tight. He’ll fuck up both his knees and elbow. Not that I give a fuck, but if you do win Regionals with such a shitty body position in your players, you’ll have to rearrange the alignment for Nationals because they’re gonna be beaten to dust, brat.”

Akaya nodded and hurried got up, forgetting hitting Niou back as he started barking orders at the second years that would be playing in Regionals. The Big Three had decided the kid should try a virtual captaincy at high school before they were bombarded with entrance exams and that shit.

“No way they’re going to win like this,” Marui said after popping his bubblegum. “Fudomine is way too strong. If we don’t play, they’re fucked.”

“Who are ‘we’?” Niou drawled as he sprawled on the bench. From the old times of glory, only Marui and himself were attending practice that day. Them and the brat that was yelling and correcting spineless pre-regulars. Everyone else was busy because of one thing or another.

“Well fuck me…”

“Is that an offer?” Niou snickered with a raised eyebrow and a wolfy grin.

Marui kicked him on the side, “Shut up”.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

Yukimura laughed so hard his ribs hurt and his breathing came like a wheezing sound. His laughter got lost over the loud music and two voices singing at the top of their lungs. He didn’t remember what was so funny, but it was okay. Everything was okay, really. More than that even. He looked with fondness around the small karaoke room they had rented for the night. Graduation had been the day before and they had followed all the necessary protocol and endured boring dinner with their peers. Tonight was about spending it with their chosen family.

It had been torture for Yukimura, attending classes while he could have playing tennis in an exclusive training facilities, and now he wouldn’t need to come back, ever. He was free. They all were free. He got a nice juicy contract with a manager in America and he was supposed to fly there in two days. Finally his dream was becoming reality. He drank down whatever Niou had gotten them by bribing the owner of the club, toasting to Marui that had a tie around his head, and filled another glass. His hands were a little shaky and spilled some on his shirt and laughed. That was okay, they were celebrating after all.

They had lost Nationals since almost all the regulars had been present at entrance exams that day; the only ones there had been Akaya, Niou and himself. He didn’t play his own match before they were taken down by Fudomine but that was okay too. Akaya had grown to a suitable captain for his team and they would win next year. When did he get so tall? He was almost Sanada’s height. Yukimura could tell because he had an arm around his fukubuchou’s shoulders and crying a river and Sanada was patting his head and didn’t mind getting his shirt wet.

Ah, he loved these dorks, his team.

His team was absolutely drunk, wasn’t it?

Oh, he loved that song.

“I want to sing that one too! Give me that mic--” Yukimura didn’t finish when a hand closed around his and pulled him out of the little room. He was sure nobody even noticed because they were being so loud and so messy. “Niou? Where are we going?”

Niou didn’t reply and dragged him through a mess of hallway and little doors and woah, the fresh air hit him hard and made him dizzy. Were they on the rooftop? Yukimura gripped the rail and closed his eyes to feel the night breeze, but it didn’t help to dissipate the dizziness. He opened his eyes and turned to look at his companion who looked like he was just about to have the tennis match of his life. “Niou, what--?”

“Give me a sec, okay? I even learned French for this but I don’t think I am drunk enough for this shit,” Niou’s voice sounded strange but they had been drinking for hours now, it wasn’t really a surprise. “ _Tu es comme un bol de nouilles instantannées quand j'ai la guele de bois…_ ”

“What?”

“ _…et je t'aime._ ”

Yukimura blinked a few times. Was he so drunk he was imagining Niou confessing his love with ridiculous and badly pronounced French to him? Oh dear heavens, what if he had passed out already and his teammates were recording this?

Niou’s lips against his own, kissing him deeply, passionately, told Yukimura this was not a dream.

And if it was, he didn’t want to wake up anytime soon.

Yukimura didn’t know for how long they kissed. He only knew how good it felt and how Niou’s hands felt against his skin when they sneaked under his shirt, or his teeth when he bit down on his neck. When they pulled apart, Niou’s eyes were glassy and his smile a little sad. Yukimura felt his heart breaking at the sight.

“I leave for America in two days.” What Yukimura wanted to say, to scream, was ‘Why now, that I won’t have you?’

“Exactly because of that.” Niou lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke into the night. “In two days you can go and forget about the fact I think of you when I jerk off.”

“Niou…”

“It wouldn’t work, anyway. You got signed and I got a really nice job offer that I can finally take. We would see each other once every five years or so, and fuck I don’t think I can last celibate that long.” Niou winked at him, and Yukimura smiled despite of everything. Niou put a stray strand of blue hair behind Yukimura’s ear and kissed him once more. “And I would totally ruin you for other men, I’m good like that.”

Yukimura snorted and pulled the other closer.

“I bet you would. I know you didn’t take any admission exams. What’s up?”

Niou looked uncomfortable and gently pushed Yukimura away.

Yukimura, of course, wouldn’t have any of that. “Masaharu, look at me.” Some people used to tell him he shouldn’t use his captain commanding voice outside the courts, that it wasn’t fair. Yukimura thought it was really useful in situations like this. To most people at least; Niou stubbornly continued looking at the lights bellows without turning around. “I said, look at me.”

“I’m not proud of it, okay?!” Niou finally snapped before turning around. “I’m being traded off as a sex slave for rich business men in exchange of everything I’ve dreamed off,” Niou said, looking straight into Yukimura’s eyes. “Told you I was good.”

Yukimura felt that mortifying sensation of missing a step in a stairway, just ten thousand times worse. He felt his body freezing in place by the dreadful realization of what that truly entitled. “Don’t do it. We can figure something out. Renji suggested it once, that you were probably doing something like that but I _ignored_ him and oh my god. I’m sorry, so sorry. We’ll figure things out. I’ll ask Renji and Genichirou and we can---“

Why was Niou smirking? This was this was so wrong, an abomination. There was no way they would let Niou just be used like an object like that. They needed to do something, take him away against his will if they had to!

Why was Niou _laughing_?

Niou tried to speak without much success and continued laughing. It was making Yukimura freak out.

“I got a contract with JAXA,” Niou breathed after a while. “JAXA, the Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency?”

“JAXA?! Don’t fucking lie to me, Niou!” Yukimura shook him by the shoulders. “They can’t force you to anything, you hear me? I’ll take you with me to America, they’ll have a harder time finding you there and I--”

“You are not going to do anything since I’m not lying.” Niou was the one to hold Yukimura by the shoulders now. “I do have a contract with JAXA and I’ve been working on solving some equations and shit for them since the term started. I didn’t say anything because of the same reason. You wouldn’t fucking believe it. You would believe I was a drug dealer or a whore but not working for a space agency.” Niou laughed again. “I do look like the type, right? Bet you wouldn’t push it away if it was Yagyuu or Yanagi the ones who told you that.”

Yukimura was too dumbstruck for words.

“I’m an ass.”

“Don’t beat yourself over it.” Niou patted him on the head and smiled. “I’ve been doing it in the fee time I got without tennis or annoying teammates. They’ve been pushing me to work full time but I’ve been turning them down. I wanted to graduate with you guys. I wanted to spend what little time you were in Japan with you…”

“Niou…”

“It’s okay, we had fun. Also I’m not really proud of how I got it,” Niou said, running a hand through his messy white hair. “I used my old man’s connections to get me an interview with a Big Name Guy. He fucking loved me. I solved an equation over space-distant calculation none of the fuckers he has for employees could solve in less than five minutes. I stole his phone too. He called his phone an hour later and offered me the job. He said we couldn’t use the same honorable methods if he wanted to beat America in order to conquer space. He reminded me of you, actually. Just less pretty and without hair.”

“Oh my _god_ …”

“You can still call me Niou. No need for such formalities around me, not yet at least.”

“Jerk. So, is it true? Are you getting a dream job too? No funny sex business? Are you going to be alright?” Yukimura said, holding onto Niou almost desperately, for some reassurance this was indeed true. Niou nodded. Yukimura pulled him closer and kissed him. “If you ever lie to me like that again, I’ll fucking kill you with my own hands.”

Niou just kissed him harder.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

“What is this?” Yukimura asked as he finally reached his hotel room after playing in the Wimbledon quarterfinals. Since he had gained the spotlight, it had been easy to win fans over with his natural charm in front of the cameras. His manager was against having fan gifts in the room though, so seeing the little package on his bed surprised Yukimura.

“You got it early in the day. I didn’t take it away with the others because it has the seal of the Government of Japan,” said his manager before taking another call from his cell phone. “Yes, he will be there. No, we haven’t signed anything yet. The offer was ridiculous! We’re talking of the one that will challenge the current cham-- no, _you_ don’t understand!”

“The Government?” Yukimura frowned as he sat on the bed and started opening the little package with mild curiosity. It was a simple small box and the content was heavy. He opened only to find a red rock in it, no letter. “A rock. Frederick, do you know--- Ah he’s gone.”

During tournaments and grand slams, Yukimura only saw his manager a few minutes a day while he hurried him to press conferences and television interviews. He could really do the tennis without the political and public relationships sides of it. He would never admit it, but pro-tennis was kind of lonely.

He took the rock outside the box. It felt heavy and… nothing besides how a rock should feel. Yukimura picked up the envelope to look for the sender’s information and there was just a name he didn’t recognize and an address. Sighing, Yukimura laid down on the bed. There was enough time for a quick nap before using the training facilities during the night.

Or maybe not. Yukimura groaned, annoyed, and pick up his phone; that had been the text message alert. After seeing who came from, he smiled a little.

Niou.

 

 

「Did you get it?」  
20:37

「You. I should have known. You sent me a rock.」  
20:38

「Yeah」  
20:38

「Why would you send me a rock?」  
20:39

「Why not?」  
20:40

 

 

Yukimura chuckled and turned to the side, clutching at the phone as he texted a reply.

 

 

「Thank you.」  
20:43

「Why aren’t you asking what kind of rock it is?」  
20:44

「Played a 3hrs match, tired」  
20:44

「（ ＴДＴ）」  
20:45

「......  
What kind of rock is it?」  
20:47

「A dude brought it from Mars. I changed it for a rock from the backyard.  
Nobody noticed shit.」  
20:47

「No fucking way!」  
20:49

「Way. It might even have some stellar radiation remnants  
If chunks of flesh start falling off, stop touching it」  
20:50

「Awesome!」  
20:50

「When you step in the courts for the next match, you know that you have already conquered another planet  
Kicking that fucker’s ass is a piece of cake.」  
20:51

 

 

Yukimura had to lower the phone and rolled over again so he could stare at the ceiling, a silly smile forming on his face.

 

 

「Thank you again」   
21:00

「You might want it to keep it away from your shorts’ pocket, though.  
Don’t want *that* chunk of meat falling off」  
21:05

「Niou!!!」  
21:07

「♥」  
21:08

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

「One glove?  
Why only one?  
Is it for *that*?  
I’ve never jacked off with a leather glove.  
Kinky」  
04:02

「No! It’s Mick Jagger’s glove...or Rihanna’s, one of them.  
I got it when I was leaving for the locker room in my last match in France」  
04:03

「Cool. Do you think she fingered herself with it? It smells funny」  
04:04

「You’re disgusting...but maybe. She definitely licked it, at least.  
Isn’t that a thing with singers nowadays?」  
04:04

「Fuck. I love you.  
No homo.」  
04:11

「Shame. I love you in a very homosexual way.」  
04:12

「It’s because you are a tennis player.  
You know how the rumor goes and all the racket puns」  
04:13

「Tezuka’s marrying next week, though」  
04:14

「Same reason Atobe married, duh. To keep up with the apparences.  
I’m sure they’re still banging like bunnies behind closed doors」  
04:16

「Hahaha, true」  
04:16

 

 

Niou typed a ‘Miss you’, stared at it for full ten minutes and deleted it before turning off his phone for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

Professional tennis demanded all your time if you aimed to reach the top ranking. It wasn’t just joining the Grand Slams and winning a decent place, but to participate in all the low-profile tournaments to win points in order to take the lead in the international ranks. On top of that, there was eight to twelve hours training at day, press conference and photo-shoots for the sports magazines. He attended some charity events and even got hooked up with supermodels and female tennis players for both publicity and personal affairs.

Finally, he had made time to try and catch up with the rest of the world. Renji and he had talked for at least an hour on the phone, making Yukimura to realize how much he had missed while he had trained and participated in tournaments around the world. Renji had a nephew and a steady girlfriend, Sanada was marrying in two months, Jackal returned to Brazil, Marui had opened a bakery and was doing quite well, Yagyuu was still in his way to become a plastic surgeon, and Niou popped in to Renji’s house from time to time to drink a beer and eat pizza and then disappeared for months at the time blaming work.

A year and a half was apparently too much time to forget there was a life outside tennis.

“Renji?” Yukimura took a deep breath before asking what he had called one of his best friends in the first place.

“Yes, Seiichi?”

“Do you have by any chance Niou’s new cell phone number? I tried to call him earlier but…” Yukimura said quietly, rubbing his forehead with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.

“Ah, yes. I believe he changed it nine months ago, three months after you changed yours. There, I sent it to your number.” Yukimura heard some rustling and then his cell phone rang with the text message Renji sent.

_Nine months ago._

“You know I changed it because o---”

“…of my manager’s instruction to keep my private life private. Isn’t that what you were going to say, Seiichi?” Yukimura bit his lip and heard Renji sighing on the other side of the phone. “Seiichi, distance is hard and time even more so. We, as human beings, seek recognition from our peers even if we don’t express it out loud, most of all from the ones we love. Be realistic of what you might be expecting with resuming contact.”

“I… yes, thank you. I’ll see you at Genichirou’s wedding, Renji.”

“Take care, Seiichi.”

It took a solid half an hour to get the courage to send a text message.

 

 

「Hi there, I’m Yukimura. This is my number. I asked my manager to send it to you but maybe he forgot?  
Anyway, how’s space? I hope you’re doing alright. I’ll be in Japan for Sanada’s wedding.  
Do you want to hang out?」  
22:01

「Fuck you」  
22:50

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

“I told you it’s a fucking family emergency! I’ll come back to work whenever the fuck I can!” Niou hissed through the phone and turned it off before the stupid nurse made the security guard take it away. He would have flipped her off but that would probably get him kicked out of the hospital and that was unthinkable right now.

Niou sat down on one of the chairs, tapping nervously on the floor with a shoe. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was bad, this was really bad. The plasma screen on the wall didn’t have any sound but the informative strip below still mentioned last night news,

 

 

> ‘Seiichi Yukimura, the successful tennis player and favorite to win the Australian Open for the third year in a row, collapsed on the court in the middle of the match for no apparent reason. The medical report and his current condition have been kept reserved. We’ll keep you informed.’

 

Niou hadn’t watched tennis in a long time and then he went and watched that goddamn match just to see Yukimura collapsing like when they had been fourteen years old. Fate was a bitch like that. Niou ran a hand through his hair and looked at the closed door. He took the first flight to Australia without telling anyone and had pulled some strings to get the information on the hospital Yukimura was at. The doctors haven’t said anything yet but that he was alive and that they were looking into Yukimura’s past medical history.

When Niou saw Yukimura losing the first game 6-4, he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. He collapsed on the second game of the second set. They couldn’t blame it on exhaustion since it was barely the beginning of the match. It had been so obvious! If Niou had been monitoring Yukimura’s matches, he could have told them what was happening ages ago. The grip wasn’t right, that hadn’t been a slide but a stumble, the clenching of the fingers when Yukimura’s hands went numb. Back when they had been teenagers, they had been too clueless and too stupid to pay attention to such details, but for fuck sake Yukimura’s manager should have noticed something!

Niou growled in direction of the man that was glued to his phone making phone calls.

The doors opened and a couple of doctors came out. Niou sprinted to his feet in a second but was pulled away from them by Yukimura’s security team. He could still hear, though. A relapse of his sickness from youth. No, a surgery is not an option, it is a questionable procedure for this sickness. Tennis? I’m afraid not, he will be lucky of tending after himself after this, maybe after rehab he would be able to run or jug. Is he conscious? Yes, he is and he was taken to his room now. Visits? Just one person at the time.

The Useless Fucker, how Niou decided to call Yukimura’s manager, took the first turn and stayed with him less than five minutes before he was out again, calling a press conference. It made Niou sick.

“You’re his family, right? You can go in now. I need to make some more phone calls.”

Niou resisted the urge to punch him in the face and just went past him to Yukimura’s room. He was definitely not ready for what he found there, for all the memories that came rushing down on him.

Yukimura was laying down in the bed, facing the wall in front of the door, tubes and machines plugged into his body, and he looked paled and worn out. Just like so many times before when their only concern was to win a middle school tennis championship. It seemed so far away and yet it was like it happening all over again.

“Yo.”

Yukimura didn’t turn to look at him.

“I said I didn’t want any visitors. Leave.” Yukimura’s voice sounded too raspy. Did they shove a tube down his throat earlier perhaps? Sounded like it. Niou ignored it and sat on the bed and gently placed a hand on Yukimura’s back.

“Not taking orders from you anymore,” Niou said quietly, rubbing his thumb in circles, trying to sooth his friend.

“Niou?”

“Alive and kicking.” Niou smiled a little and started massaging softly Yukimura’s back. “So are you, I’m glad.”

“This is stupid. I made a mistake to play while being tired,” Yukimura said so confidently that Niou thought he was messing with him. “I’ll be in top form for Roland Garros.”

Niou's hand stopped.

“ _What_?”

“I won’t miss it. It would mess up my rank. I already talked to my manager, he says we can pull it off.”

No fucking way.

“Did you speak to the doctors yet?” Because it sounded like they haven’t heard the same Niou did.

“Yes and they are _wrong_. Frederick is calling to a doctor in Germany that will put me in shape in no time.”

Niou stood up. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Have I ever joked about tennis, Niou?” Yukimura snapped and Niou walked around the bed so he could see him face to face. Oh fuck, he was being serious.

“Yukimura, don’t. Just don’t. You’ll get yourself killed. Remember those times when you forced Sanada to get you back on your feet and you collapsed after hitting your head? How you ended up in the hospital again after those Nationals from hell because you ripped open your stitches? Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“You know nothing about tennis or me! Get out or I’ll call the nurse! I mean it, Niou!” Yukimura voice sounded so weak even if he was mad and almost yelling. It scared Niou. Yukimura reached for the emergency button on the night stand and Niou stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“If you’re okay, prove it. If you free yourself of my grip, I’ll swallow my words. Damn, I’ll fucking kneel and apologize,” Niou growled and he meant it. He wanted Yukimura to break free, he wanted this to be a nightmare. He felt a couple of slight tugs and Yukimura most sadistic glare on him but he couldn’t get his hand free. “I fucking thought so. Yukimura… _please_.”

“Go away.”

Niou let him go, and did just that.

 

(x)

 

Niou was smoking in the hospital parking lot, cursing everything in existence and blessing the nicotine in his lungs when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around to send the useless fucker to hell when he saw a familiar sight.

“Master?”

“Hello, Niou. How are you?” Yanagi voice was calm as ever, even if he looked flushed as he had run to get to the Hospital were Yukimura was being treated.

“Been better,” Niou said before taking another drag. “How is he doing?”

“They’re doing even more tests and blood analysis before translating him to the German hospital.” Yanagi seemed to reprove that as much as Niou did, at least. “I haven’t seen him yet. I’ll try to convince him to take a vacation, but it’s highly improbable that he accepts my suggestions. His mind seems to be a little clouded by the possible consequences missing a few tournaments could have in his career.”

“No joke.”

They stayed silent for a long time, Niou finishing his smoke and Yanagi drinking a coffee.

“I’m going to head back now. Are you coming with me, Niou?”

“Nope. Actually, could you keep the fact you saw me here a secret? For good old times’ sake, Master?” Niou step on the fag-end to put it off.

“You don’t want him to know you are here.”

“He thinks I left two days ago after he kicked me out.” Niou shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jacket and looked at the sky. It was cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain. “I couldn’t leave.”

Niou couldn’t remember any other time that Yanagi hugged him like he was doing just now.

 

 

 

-8-8-

 

 

Yukimura cursed as the racket escaped his grip and crashed against the practice wall in the empty court. It was already late at night and was completely empty except for him. It would be shameful to be seen like this, missing the simplest serves and returns. Not that the whole world hadn’t seen it already.

Failure after failure, it had been the most hellish year of his life. His manager had forced him to retire for a year to recover, and to keep him from making excuses for the pitiful loses against noobs in the high ranked tournaments. Now, Yukimura shoved his racket inside the bag and exited the courts.

He walked to his apartment in Tokyo. After spending so much on his own it was impossible for him to return to his parent’s house. It was small and full of plants and was the most boring thing in existence. Yukimura could have called Renji or Genichirou, but not when he had just practiced tennis and had blisters on his hands because his grip wasn’t tight enough. He would get an unnecessary lecture and he was not in the mood for it.

Yukimura sat on his bed, looking at nothing in particular when he caught a glimpse of his old personal computer. Internet was a blissful solution to waste time, so he started surfing pages and checking his more than four thousand unread emails. Whoops, he missed the chance of winning twenty cruises, fourteen cars, one hundred and forty four heritance from hopeless abused women in South Africa and Nigeria, and three high school reunions.

Yukimura reached Niou’s emails on the 2304th unread email.

As if the day couldn’t get worse.

He read each and every one of them. Niou started writing him several times a day, then once a day, then once a week until the emails stopped completely. Yukimura was starting to believe he was more of masochist than he would like to admit when he went into his ‘Sent’ folder. There were just a couple of emails there. No, he wasn’t a masochist, he was sadist. He had enjoyed making Niou suffer, keeping him in the hope of getting his feelings returned.

Yukimura loved Niou, he truly did. He just sucked at expressing it. And in making him feel loved. And in noticing him. And in caring for him.

Really, Yukimura just sucked at being a person.

Oh god. What he had done?

It was already two in the morning but he reached for the phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Hello?” Came Renji’s voice, groggy by sleep.

“What’s Niou’s address?”

“Seiichi?”

“Renji, wake up. What’s Niou’s address?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, and totally not drunk. I need his address, please.”

“Hmm. Let me get it.”

 

(x)

 

Yukimura was tired and gasping for breath as he finally reached the door he had been looking for. It had started raining on his way and he was soaked to the bone, the water slowly pooling around his feet and staining the carpet of the hallway. He raised a hand and traced the number with this fingers.

Would Niou be home? Maybe he was at work. If he was home, would he be asleep? Most likely, it was near four in the morning. Maybe Yukimura needed to bang really loudly. Niou would think it was a random drunk and wouldn’t answer the door. What the hell was he doing? This was wrong, he had done enough damage already.

For once, Yukimura wished he wasn’t as selfish as he always was. He wanted to be the honorable man that walked away and sacrificed his own happiness for the sake of his love. Truth was, he wasn’t. He wanted Niou in his life. Or at least he wanted to apologize for his own peace of mind. Either way he needed to bang on the door. Yukimura took a deep breath and knocked three times.

Yukimura’s heart was loud in his ear as the worst possible outcomes played in his head.

Please, open the door. No, don’t open it, I don’t want you see me like this. But I want to see you, even if it’s just one more time. Do you want to see me too?

“What the fuck? _Yukimura_?”

Yukimura opened his eyes, he didn’t even remember when he closed them, too see Niou standing there in just boxers and a ragged t-shirt.

“Do...” Why was so hard to speak? Why was so hard to even _breathe_? When Yukimura was sick, one of his worst fears was that his body forgot how to breathe, just like now. He took a couple of shallow breaths before trying to speak again, “Do equations cure a broken body? I know… I know medicine doesn’t.”

Yukimura hugged himself. Why was it getting colder? He needed to get out of there but first he needed to make himself clear, to speak up for all those months in silence. “I was a fool, a stupid obnoxious moron.” Yukimura gathered the courage to look straight into Niou’s eyes. “I fucked up and I’m sorry. Even if that doesn’t change anything.”

Niou was unreadable and implacable as always, barricading the door with his body, not letting him in and it broke Yukimura’s heart. So that was how it felt. He had lost many matches in his life, but this one felt like a _defeat_. Yukimura thought he truly deserved that.

“I needed to let you know. I should go.”

Yukimura bowed slightly before turning away. He was so stupid for thinking, hoping for another outcome. Well, it was done now.

“I don’t know about equations but if I’ve learned one thing from watching the stars that are just projections of the past: I learned that everything is just about time. Time fixes everything, it sets shit straight.”

Yukimura turned slowly, not trusting his own ears. Was Niou…?

He didn’t think he had the right but went ahead and hugged Niou, pulling him closer and getting him wet. He could feel tears running down his face. Everything was just too much. Tennis, sickness, Niou giving him another chance. He was cold and wet and everything was definitely fucked up but it was okay, everything would be okay. Niou was still holding tight to him, and that meant that he was going to be just fine.

“Now, get your ass inside and I’ll give you a towel. You look like a stray dog. I’ll go make some tea or some shit. For fuck’s sake, it’s four in the morning…”

 

 


End file.
